


Keep Your Word

by pudgydumpling



Category: Red Dwarf (UK TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Denial of Feelings, Friends to Lovers, Initially reluctant to have sex, M/M, but like they're both fully into it before things happen, just go with it, kryten is a lil stressed bean, slightly messed up canon but shh it's ok, they go to the disco, they meet holly 2.0 and her name is julia, they're still on red dwarf when rimmer becomes hard light
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:08:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23166013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pudgydumpling/pseuds/pudgydumpling
Summary: The crew discovers a foreign ship headed straight for Red Dwarf! Upon exploration, they find out they'll need to redeem themselves to the ship's A.I. in a very strange way...
Relationships: Dave Lister/Arnold Rimmer
Comments: 5
Kudos: 42





	Keep Your Word

A chef. Of all things. Rimmer wouldn’t have been able to see it coming even if it had kicked him square in the rear and stolen his favourite underwear hanger. No, this wasn’t right. Not morally right. A god-damned chef shouldn’t outrank him. He was determined to make Lister fail. Yes, if he were to fail, then he wouldn’t outrank Rimmer, and all would be well on Red Dwarf. All would remain as it should be. With Lister right at the bottom of the totem pole, and Rimmer right above him, keeping him in line. Yes… Yes, and he knew exactly how he would do it.

As Lister covered his hands with a cloth and reached into the microwave to retrieve a piping hot bowl, he could hear oddly sharp, heeled footsteps approaching down the hallway. He turned suddenly, but froze when he saw the woman he’d had on his mind all week.

“Hello, Dave,” she tittered kittenishly, raising her shoulders.

Lister dropped the bowl with a piercing shout and licked at his hands to put out the imaginary fire he felt, “I’m just doing this, er, I’m taking this, erm,” he gave up trying, “This is a surprise.”

Kochanski’s lips turned into a curt frown, “Dave, why didn't you just tell me how you felt about me when I was still alive?”

Lister’s voice dropped tightly, his mouth curling into a smitten smile, “'Cause I'm a dope, and I'm a bum, and I'm stupid, and I'm an idiot, and I'm hopeless, and I'm useless,” he rambled, getting closer to Kochanski’s mousey face.

Kochanski sighed and turned away, “I’m sorry, but I just don’t like you.”

“Oh, hey…” He lowered his head, distraught, “I’m really embarrassed now, I don’t know what to say…”

Kochanski’s hands wove behind her back as she rocked on her heels, “Suppose it’s sort of pointless you’re doing the exam then.” Her voice was sharp and aggressive.

“Well, yeah, it’s sort of pointless me breathing in and out, if you want to know the truth.”

She spoke deliberately and slowly, “I could never love _anyone_ like you,” she leaned forward, “So, you might as well pack up your pots and pans and,” she made a baby throwing motion with one hand, “Off you go.”

Lister toiled silently.

“I need a man who’s going places,” she placed her hands on her hips, swaying slightly, then raised her finger to emphasize the next words, “Up, up, up the ziggurat, lickety-split!”

Oh. 

Oh, this isn’t… Lister’s brain was laughing, absolutely _keeling,_ at the thought that Rimmer believed he was being subtle. But he kept his outside cool, “So it didn’t mean anything to you, then?”

Kochanski’s brows knitted together, “What didn’t?”

Lister’s eyes crinkled as a wicked grin split his lips. He leaned forward, motioning for Kochanski to come closer. She obliged, hands crossing over her front, “What?”

“When I screwed you silly after we went to the disco together?” His teeth sparkled behind his smile in the name of taunting poor, stupid Rimsy.

Kochanski sputtered, “When,” she backed up, arms flying down to her sides and chest puffing out defensively, “When you what?” Her cheeks were quickly growing red.

“Yeah, and I rock-and-roll’d your body so good that you couldn’t see when we were finished,” Lister abandoned his rolling pin to walk around the table, approaching Kochanski and staring at her lips as she stumbled a step backwards, “And you just couldn’t stop after one round, oh no,” he mused taking Kochanski’s hand and kissing slowly up her arm, “We spent the whole night grinding our _sweaty_ bodies together…”

Kochanski pulled her arm back, passing through Lister’s head with no resistance. Her hand flew to slap him across the face, but again it passed through, curbing her attempt to physically express her disgust and embarrassment. She stared with wide eyes at Lister, who was still smiling like a devil...

Rimmer shot up in his bunk so quickly that he hit his head on the bottom of Lister’s. He yelped and rubbed the H on his forehead before lying back down with a thwump against his pillow. Staring up at the ocean grey metal, he thought back on the memory he just dreamt about. Lister’s words replayed in his mind, echoing endlessly and bouncing through his head like a pinball. He hadn’t known it then, but those words would haunt him.

His thoughts came to a halt when Lister’s voice broke the silence, “Rimmer?” Arnold held his breath unintentionally.

“Rimmer, you alright? Nearly knocked me out of bed,” Lister laughed, obviously joking.

“Oh, I hardly believe that,” Rimmer snapped, not really understanding why anger was his immediate response, “I’m fine.”

Lister sighed, annoyed, “Alright, fine, suit yourself, I’m just trying to help.”

Rimmer regretted his decision to speak impulsively, wishing he had just paused to think for once in his life, “I…” he huffed at himself, frustrated that his words wouldn’t come naturally, “I just had a strange dream is all.”

He watched as dreadlocks hung down over his bunk, then lowered to reveal Lister’s taunting, mischievous grin, “Oh, ho, did Yvonne show you a good time?” Rimmer groaned and turned on his side to face the wall. Lister frowned sincerely, “Sorry, Arn,” He clicked his tongue in pity, “Another nightmare?”

“Shut up, you goit,” Rimmer hissed over his shoulder.

“I’m just bein’ a friend, Rimmer.”

“Well, I don’t need it,” He huffed, “Go to sleep.”

“Can’t.”

“Why not?” Rimmer was becoming increasingly more annoyed. He propped himself up on his elbow to shoot a glare at Lister.

“Because I can’t go to sleep if you’re gonna be whingin’ and whimperin’ all night.”

Rimmer sat up, bumping his head again and hearing the whir of his light bee get very slightly louder, “I’m not!”

Lister retracted back up to his bunk, and for a moment Rimmer thought he was going back to sleep, but he quickly jumped down into view and sat down against the metal of Rimmer’s bunk with his back turned to him. He sipped from the lager he had in his bed just moments earlier, “You will.”

Rimmer was fuming, “It’s none of your smegging business what I’m dreaming about,” He pushed Lister forward hard enough that his drink spilled, “They’re _my_ dreams and you can leave well enough alone!”

Lister stood, alcohol now soaking his chest, and held his arms out with a frustrated, “what-the fuck?” kind of expression. Rimmer pressed his lips tightly together, eyes flashing with what almost, _almost_ looked like guilt, before turning around and whumping his head back down. Lister scoffed incredulously and peeled his shirt off to discard it into the laundry hamper. Rimmer turned to see what he was doing before making a face at Lister’s grotesquely unwashed bod.

As Lister picked up a…’clean’ shirt to change into, Holly’s voice could be heard from the screen behind him.

“Emergency,” she chirped in a daze, “There’s an emergency going on.”

“What is it, Hol?” Lister slipped his shirt on and shook his head to get comfortable.

“There’s a ship nearby. It’s coming from behind in our direction.”

Rimmer shot up in his bunk, mouth open to shout, and smacked his head for a third time on the bottom of Lister’s bed. He grunted loudly and rubbed his head, “Aliens!” He finally yelped victoriously, baring his teeth like an animal.

“Rimmer, it isn’t aliens,” Lister retorted condescendingly, “Right, Holly?”

“I don’t think so. Looks like it’s human in origin.”

Rimmer’s puffed chest deflated as he stood, pushing some of his hair back into place after it had been dislodged by sleep, “Right. Well, I suppose we should go see what it is.” And after a change of clothes on Rimmer’s part, they were off.

~

The lights in the drive room shone dimly in the darkened ship light. Holly was panicking silently, and it showed in her expression. Rimmer and Lister were both staring at the screen which was spewing information about the unknown ship at them; the readings were normal for the most part, but there was some sort of strange energy field around the entire vessel. The Cat was sitting behind them, tending to his nails, and Kryten was pacing back and forth, panic chip already overloaded from the stress of the situation.

“What do these readings mean, Holly?” Rimmer piped up, brows knitting together.

“Well, according to my database…” She paused, blinking twice, “I don’t have a clue.”

Rimmer squinted, scrutinizing Holly’s answer, “That’s it? You haven’t got a clue? Not even a guess? An educated guess?” He shook his head in disbelief, catching Lister’s eyes and jabbing his thumb over his shoulder as if to communicate, ‘get a load of this bozo.’ 

“Well, uh, Holly, you’d better figure it out fast, because that thing is comin’ our way!” Lister shouted, watching the readings go haywire. 

Holly shook her head in a panic and stammered, “I, well, I’m not sure, but it looks like some sort of tr…” A loud _thwunk_ echoed through the floor as the power cut, wiping Holly’s face from the monitor in an instant. An alarm began to sound, and the emergency lights slowly came on in their dim reddish colour, lighting up just enough of the drive room to see Cat undisturbed from his task and Kryten waving his hands anxiously. 

A sharp, ringing sound rang through the air and bore into the Red Dwarf crew’s heads like a worm into an apple. Lister clutched his head and cried out, and Rimmer gritted his teeth with a wail. They were both slowly gaining memories of a life not belonging to them. Kryten looked as though he was being fried from the inside out, and the Cat was...perfectly fine. If anything, he seemed confused. 

Slowly, but steadily, specific events in each of their lives were altered, leaving both a true memory and a new, false one. At first, none of them could figure out what was changing and why, but soon they all came to realize that any lie they’d told in the past was superimposed on their minds like it was true. 

Rimmer began remembering a life of success, of triumph, of being loved and cared about. A life of making his family proud and fitting in with his brothers, of passing his astronavigation exams and working up the ranks like he’d told his mother he’d done. And, most strongly of all, he remembered a specific night from the past which he had just been thinking of…

Lister howled in disgust, standing from his seat beside Rimmer and stumbling back as their eyes met, both simultaneously flooded with memories of the rather perverse night together that Lister had described some years prior. Rimmer’s face grew as red as their very ship as he covered his eyes with one hand, frantically closing them and trying to forget what he'd just seen. Lister was more in shock than anything, blinking stupidly with wide eyes. He had never pictured Rimmer when he was telling that lie so long ago, but he guessed that it was him and not Kochanski because he had _known_ that it was Rimmer in her body. In any case, it was a night he already wanted to forget.

“What the heck is goin’ on?” Cat chimed, swaying back and forth forcefully, “Why are you guys actin’ like you just got possessed?”

Kryten shivered, gasping to recover from his flood of very strange, very unrealistic memories, “I…” He paused, coming closer, “I believe someone has hacked my programming and inserted false memories into my hard drive…!”

Rimmer slammed his fist down on the counter, cheeks still practically glowing red, and stood abruptly. His mind was far too crowded with memories both of his real life and his false one to think clearly at all. He tried not to look at Lister, who was blatantly staring back at Rimmer with a look of both disdain and curiosity, and quite pointedly had his eyes on Rimmer’s lower half.

The Cat yowled with frustration, “You must be crazy! I ain’t feelin’ nothin’!” He waved his hands animatedly and looked between all of his crewmates. Unfortunately, no one was in the mood to humour him. 

~

“So, you’re telling me that,” Rimmer paused, lips pursing and eyes narrowing, “This ship is enforcing everything we’ve said as the truth?”

Kryten nodded, looking dismayed, “I think so, Mr. Rimmer, sir,” He smacked his lips, troubled, “It has some sort of truth field…”

“But why?” Rimmer inquired, head bobbing with confusion, “Why would that be what it does?”

Kryten sighed, “That, I’m uncertain of, sir…” He twiddled with his fingertips, trying to calm his nerves, “I cannot ascertain what kind of ship would even have a ‘truth field’ at all, it just…doesn’t make sense to me!”

“So, anything we say goes?” Lister piped up from where he was lounging, “Anything at all?”

“Yes. Yes, it would seem so, sir.”

“Really? Because remember when we saw Rimmer reading that porny male model magazine the other day?” Lister’s lips split into a wicked grin, making eye contact with Rimmer and laughing shamelessly. The latter crewmember scoffed loudly in exaggerated disgust, being forcefully given the memories of indeed reading this magazine.

“You,” Rimmer stammered, “You can’t do that! This is defamation of character, I’m going to report y...”

Lister laughed, “To who, ya smeghead?”

Kryten wailed nervously, “Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Rimmer, I did not mean to see such a private matter, I…! Oh…!”

Rimmer glared at Lister with the power of a thousand dwarf stars and retorted in a mocking manner, “Oh, no, don’t apologize to me, you should apologize to Lister for walking in on him massaging his balls with rose oil!”

Kryten gasped and covered his eyes with his hands, trying to turn to run but being blocked by Lister’s legs, which were propped up in the path of the door.

“I never did that, you liar,” Lister taunted with a wry grin, “You just like thinkin’ about me balls, huh?” He gave a dumb laugh.

Rimmer’s chest puffed up defensively, trying to ignore the thoughts of his smelly roommate’s testicles which had just been implanted into his brain. He strained trying to think of a comeback, something that would absolutely ruin him, break him, destroy him, “Well, I heard that you could never get enough of burying your nose into girls’ sweaty fe…”

And before he could even finish his sentence,

“Well, _I heard_ that Rimmer has a _stick_ up his arse.”

And so he did.

~

Rimmer stood on the observation deck, watching the stars pass by and thinking to himself about everything he had on his mind. Perhaps it was dramatic, but when you’re given memories that feel so real, it’s hard to remind yourself that they aren’t and never can be. No matter how much you wish your life could have just gone right.

Lister was busy dealing with a frantic and anxiety-fried Kryten, trying to calm him down and convince him that everything would be okay. It was, however, not long before Kryten powered himself down temporarily for a ‘wellness snooze,’ as he put it, and Lister was free to do as pleased. He decided it would be best if he took some time on the observation deck to think and figure out what exactly was going on. As he made his way there, he caught himself thinking about the dreaded night and shook his head. He had to stop thinking about it. It was just a lie that this weird ship was trying to enforce on them. It wasn’t real. It was never real. And, of course… The man he was trying to forget had to be standing right in front of him when he finally got where he was going.

Rimmer didn’t seem to notice Lister straight away, just staring at the passing galaxies with a sort of sadness you can see runs deep in someone’s psyche. At least, Lister could see. He knew Rimmer too well, more than he ever chose to know. But there was something about this specific sadness he was seeing that made his gut twist with sympathy. He made his way to Rimmer, steps slow and quiet, boots barely making a sound as he walked, and eased into leaning against the guard rail of the deck beside his friend. Rimmer turned his head to glance, eyes dull and upset at once, and then returned to watching the sky.

“Hey, Rimmer…”

“Please, spare me your pity,” Rimmer sighed apathetically. He ran his fingers over the rail, chipping some of the paint away from the steel from a spot that was already worn.

Lister just watched Rimmer’s face closely, crossing his arms and leaning further into the rail, “I’m not…” Lister paused to think, “I’m not pitying you, you know, I know that all this is only in your head because you lied about it,” He nodded, looking away to match where Rimmer’s gaze was wandering.

Rimmer glanced again at Lister, feeling called out, but knowing that what he was saying was true, “I…” He was interrupted when his hand went to rest further on the guard rail and brushed against Lister’s, causing him to pull it away abruptly. He snapped his mouth shut like a spring trap and blinked at Lister. He wasn’t quite sure why he was having such a reaction to such a tiny amount of physical contact, but he guessed that it was probably because it was the first time they’d touched at all since they were given the… _intimate_ memories. He could tell just from making eye contact with Lister that he felt it too. They both rubbed at their hands idly as the tension hung in the air between them and they pretended not to notice it.

“You what?” Lister finally prompted, curious about what Rimmer had to say.

“Oh, I, well,” Rimmer’s back stiffened, taking a deep breath through his nose to think, “I suppose I…” He paused again, collecting his thoughts to say them in the least embarrassing way possible, “I just can’t stop thinking about the fact that we…”

Lister interrupted him swiftly, “We didn’t,” He forced a laugh to try to dispel the uncomfortable atmosphere, “We didn’t, remember, we only think we did because I pulled your leg once,” He scratched the back of his head and pulled his sleeves down to cover more of his arms. 

Rimmer watched his friend’s expression change and a slight flush creep onto his cheeks out of what he assumed was embarrassment. “Right,” he agreed with a nod, turning back to face the stars again. He watched a comet fly by and fizzle out, “Shooting star,” he announced, “Make a wish.” He closed his eyes and Lister gave him a judgmental look, expecting him to see, but when he realized Rimmer wasn’t looking, his expression softened as he too closed his eyes to make a wish.

Slowly, Rimmer’s eyes opened again, pleased with the wish he’d made. Lister was mouthing something to himself, not knowing he was being watched. Rimmer narrowed his gaze to try to decipher what was being said and he could have sworn he saw his name on Lister’s lips. 

It wasn’t long before Lister finished his silent little speech, “Made my wish…” he trailed off, noticing that Rimmer was staring at his mouth. He looked down at the ground and cleared his throat, smiling awkwardly, then patted the guard rail, “I’d better get back to Kryten and see if he’s done with his ‘wellness snooze,’ whatever that means…” He gave a short laugh and a curt nod before leaving Rimmer to his own devices at the rail. 

Rimmer watched him go with a few consecutive blinks. He wasn’t really sure _what_ just happened, but he couldn’t deny that he sort of liked whatever it was.

~

“No, that won’t work either,” Rimmer droned, acting intelligent.

“Well, sir, we could try…” Kryten began a suggestion that very well could have been helpful, but Rimmer growled with displeasure and threw his hands up, effectively interrupting his robotic crewmate.

“Nothing has worked so far!” Rimmer cried with hopeless frustration, “We tried shorting its connection with Red Dwarf, we tried turning the ship manually to try to fling it off,” he paced back and forth, counting on his fingers quite aggressively as Lister watched him with a nonchalant stare, “For God's sake, we even tried just telling the damn thing to smeg off!”

Lister grunted and sat up, “Rimmer, don’t you think you’re bein’ a bit…” he paused, seeming like he was trying to pick an eloquent adjective, “Histrionic?” He sniffed, knowing full well that his word wouldn’t be understood. Rimmer’s frown deepened.

“What on Io does that mean?”

“Melodramatic. Overemotional,” he smiled and tried to hide his mouth behind his ‘gourmet,’ as he called it, chili cheese dog which was dripping a disgusting amalgamation of bright red cheese, mustard, and some sort of greenish ooze. Kryten sighed as he thought about the fact that he was going to be the one doing the laundry later on.

Rimmer huffed, “That’s not a real word.”

Kryten sighed once more, “Actually, it is, Mr. Rimmer, sir.” 

Rimmer scoffed several times, but had no argument. Lister laughed before taking another bite of his revolting concoction of a ‘meal.’

“Oh, you’re…” Rimmer trailed off, not even wanting to finish his thought.

Out of nowhere, the three of them heard a faint “Owww!” which grew steadily louder as the Cat spun gracefully into the drive room, “Hey, you guys!” He howled cheerfully, strutting over to Kryten and pawing unbothered at his shiny chest plate, “Guess what I found in the pipes!”

“Ugh, Cat, not now,” Rimmer rubbed at his temples and grabbed the back of an unoccupied chair to lean on it and lower his head.

Cat huffed and jabbed a clawed finger in Rimmer’s direction, “You didn’t even give me a chance to say it, Goalpost-head!” He waltzed towards Lister to give his food a tentative, non-threatening sniff, “Yuck,” was all he had to say, “Anyway, I found some of your fancy human words on a big metal thingy! It looked like it was from that new ship that’s been makin’ you guys go all cuckoo.”

Rimmer raised his head, “What?”

Lister spoke with his mouth full, dribbling a little from the corners of his lips, “Well, lead us to it,” He punctuated his request by shoving the rest of his lunch into his mouth and standing up to put his jacket on.

~

“I can’t read it, what do I look like? A xenotranslation index?”

“Well, I don’t know, Rimmer, I just thought I’d ask,” Lister rolled his eyes.

“I believe it is in some sort of commerce language, but my system is not programmed with a translator for it, unfortunately.”

“I can’t even read English,” observed the Cat.

Rimmer sighed, taking a squat position in front of the metal plaque and running his fingers over the letters, “It almost looks like…” 

A light went off in Lister’s head, “Esperanto!”

With a swallow, Rimmer ducked with shame, “And of all the times when I would need it…” He buried his face in his hand and rubbed at his eyes with his thumb and index finger, “I can’t smegging read it.”

“No! No, Rimmer! You can read it! You learned it and you got everything right every study session,” Lister waved his arms emphatically, clearly lying, but using it to their advantage in this situation. He watched as Rimmer’s eyes flashed with an entirely new language, gifted to him effortlessly.

“I…” He stumbled, catching himself with one hand on the ground, “I _can_ read it,” His eyes flew over the plaque, taking it in in its entirety.

“What does it say, Mr. Rimmer?”

“It says…” Rimmer cleared his throat, putting on a bossy voice, “This craft sails in the name of two of Jupiter’s moons…” He trailed off, tutting as he skipped through the wordy bits, “Ah, okay, here,” He straightened up, “This is the vessel known as the Honesty-Enabled Rehabilitative Prison of Europa and Sinope, otherwise known as…” 

“As what?” Lister perked up.

Rimmer blinked at the acronym before sighing with disappointment, “Herpes.”

Kryten clicked his tongue, trying to change the subject, “Oh dear, well,” He fiddled with his hands, “Does it say anything about how to get rid of it?”

Rimmer continued reading the wordy plaque in his head, finally finding a list of ‘rules,’ “Firstly, if you are experiencing false memories, report immediately to a superior officer to have yourself reprimanded, retributed, and sent back into the workforce, oh, well that’s not…”

“So there’s a way to get rid of them! Great, let’s get onto that ship and find somebody who can help us,” Lister began walking in the direction of an entrance to the foreign ship.

The Cat looked between Kryten and Rimmer and shrugged with a tight-lipped smile and followed Lister. Rimmer choked on an incomprehensible argument, insisting that he should finish reading the rest of the rules before they go barging into a ship they don’t even know has a crew or not. Kryten sighed and followed behind the Cat with his head down shamefully.

As Rimmer stood to follow along reluctantly, what he didn’t know was that he _really_ should have read the rest of the rules before abandoning the plaque in favour of sticking with the group.

~

“This place is kind of…” Lister began, running a hand over the wall as they walked through the cleanly designed but unkempt ship halls.

“Gross? Disgusting? Revolting?” The Cat suggested, making faces at the relish-green accents on the silver decor.

“Empty,” Rimmer finished, seeming unsurprised and quite displeased, “Everyone on this ship has died, millions of years ago.” He stopped walking to observe a hung portrait of who looked to be the captain, mimicking his taut posture and pursing his lips before following the others onwards, “No one is going to be able to help us.”

Just as the last word left his mouth, a nearby computer screen lit up with a gentle, young brunette’s face, “Oh dear, you aren’t from here,” She tutted at herself, “You must forgive my manners, but I’d been asleep for nearly three million years…” Punctuated with a yawn, her statement sounded almost human, but the ragtag crew of misfits was all too used to computer-senile ship managers, “My name is Julia, I’m a Thirteenth Generation AI hologrammatic computer with an IQ of 12,000. I’m in charge of H.E.R.P.E.S.” She smiled and blinked, and it was only half-returned by the Red Dwarf crew.

“Well, hello there, Julia,” Lister purred, wiggling his eyebrows at her. Rimmer rolled his eyes. Lister leaned in, “We’re from Red Dwarf, the ship your ship is attached to, and, well…” He was quickly interrupted.

“I’m attached to you? Oh dear.” She shook her head, making the same deer-in-the-headlights expression that was so signature to Holly, “That must mean that the ship detected high levels of dishonesty,” she sighed, “I must say though, this is the first time in a long time that I’ve encountered any ship at all, so I may be a bit rusty on how to fix this.” She cleared her throat. The crew was growing antsy.

“Well?” Rimmer prodded, leaning forward subconsciously. He remembered the dreaded night and grew anstier.

“You’ll need to act out one of your lies, to make it truthful,” She began, puckering her lips in thought, “Consider it retribution.”

Kryten watched as Rimmer and Lister locked eyes, then both averted their gazes. He observed them with fascination, wondering just what must be going on in their heads, before allowing his mind to wander further into daydreams. He thought about how much laundry there was left to do back on Red Dwarf, as even with just the four of them, and only three needing clothes, there seemed to be no end to the dirty laundry. He thought about how much he would love to kick back, de-stress, and clean the entire cafeteria. He had been meticulously cleaning room by room, floor by floor, in an attempt to clean the entire ship, eventually. So far, he had met about 1/1364 of his goal. But he would get there someday. The thought alone excited him beyond belief.

When he came back to reality after getting lost in his daydream, he realized that they were already back on Red Dwarf. He must have walked along with the others on autopilot. He frowned and stopped walking, “What are we going to do about this?”

Rimmer refused to even look at the group, let alone speak any sort of answer, but Lister piped up, “We need to find the easiest lie to act out,” he scratched at his jaw, mouth twisted in thought, “Could be anything, something small, something meaningless,” he trailed off, already out of thinking juice.

Kryten fretted and clicked his tongue with disappointment, “I'm afraid all of my lies are wildly unrealistic,” he paused, remembering his least favourite, “I said that a banana was a Czechoslovakian traffic warden…” He tapped his hands together with worry before looking around idly to try to ease some of his own tension, “Do either of you have something we could try?”

Had the Cat still been there, he would have surely been offended by his exclusion, but since he’d already taken the liberty of escaping the group of pants-on-fires, he was nowhere in sight. 

Rimmer made a face, but didn’t look up at the others. Lister glanced at Rimmer, then made eye contact with Kryten, “We’ll brainstorm, why don’t you have yourself a snooze or something?”

Reluctantly, the robotic crewmember nodded stiffly and thought to himself what fun he was about to have with all of his beloved cleaning supplies.

~

Later that same evening, Rimmer and Lister sat eyeing the blue tabletop in their shared room, sitting at opposite ends. Rimmer was incessantly tapping his fingertips against the polished surface, mouth scrunched small and moving side to side as his train of thought sped over its rails. Every so often, he would chance a quick glance up at Lister, then quickly avert his eyes to watch his hand’s movements. He wanted to say something, but he didn’t know just what yet, and he certainly wasn’t going to start talking without a plan first. Of course, he thought, he usually spoke without thinking, but this situation felt different. He felt vulnerable even now, parked stubbornly farther away from Lister than he usually stood hovering on the average day. No, this time, this was different. And yet, he found that he couldn’t stop his mouth from opening and his tongue from moving.

“I can’t really think of anything that I’ve lied about that could realistically be true,” he sniffed, pretending he wasn’t implying something, pretending he wasn’t implying exactly what they were both thinking about. Neither of them was ready to admit that despite their best efforts, that one teeny-tiny lie was stuck on their minds.

Lister adjusted, scratching at his neck as his own way of self-distraction, or perhaps even self-soothing, and took a long breath, “Me, er…” he paused, clearing his throat, “Me neither.” Another lie. This time, though, despite the truth field, the lie did not come true. Perhaps it was temporarily disabled thanks to their talk with Julia. Was he thankful? He couldn’t decide.

Rimmer sat up a little, almost looking offended, “Surely you must have something.”

“I don’t think I do, Rimmer.”

“Well, I think you might.”

“Why don’t you pick at your own brain if you’re so sure then?”

Unsatisfied and thoroughly annoyed already, Rimmer leaned back in his seat, looking around the room. It was particularly unclean that day. He wondered where Kryten was if not here tidying up, tapping the table again, “This room is a mess.”

He received no answer. Lister was too busy being frustrated, not entirely because of Rimmer’s stupid comments and equally stupid mannerisms, but primarily because of his own brain being unforgiving in how often it was assaulting him with thoughts of his irritating friend, in the memory of that night there, naked and sprawling, completely disheveled. He clenched his jaw and ground his teeth, cursing his own stupid humour. It was only ever meant to be a joke. A prank, a laugh, maybe even a move if… Wait, what was that thought? That wasn’t right. He decided to answer now, having worked up enough anger to let it out, “Well, maybe if you didn’t suck the life out of me constantly, then I would have the energy to clean up,” but as the words left his mouth, he regretted them almost instantly.

Rimmer’s eyes went wide and his brows raised, then furrowed, “What? You’ve been a slob your whole life, you can’t blame me for your own flaw,” he crossed his arms, glaring with disapproval.

At least he hadn’t believed it. Lister sighed harshly and finally gave in. He knew he had to be the one to say what they were thinking, because Rimmer sure as hell wasn’t going to. He inhaled sharply.

“We both know what we have to do.”

This seemed to take Rimmer off guard and fluster him, inexplicably to any outsider. They hadn’t said much of anything about that night to each other, but they were both experiencing the same things inside. Denial, anger, tension, shame. Lust…

But, inevitably and shamefully and desperately, they both knew which one of those feelings would win this round.

~

Their plans were set for several nights later. They both needed time to prepare, mentally and physically. Rimmer had taken the liberty of staying in the room next door for the liminal nights, happy to be in a clean, untouched environment again. He had forgotten how much he appreciated cleanliness until he was reminded of how it looked. It was also nice to be alone and have space and silence to think, but in a way he missed having to put up with Lister day and night. These past couple days, they had barely seen each other at all. It was like a high school date all over again: nerves, sweat, stress-induced acne and all. 

But the evening they had set as their meeting had come quicker than anticipated, and what in reality was two days had gone in an instant under the circumstances. Rimmer stood silently staring at himself in the mirror. He twirled an unruly lock of his hair into a perfect little curl and urged it into place. He wondered if he should have maybe styled his hair differently, or if the clothes he picked were even all that suitable. The black slacks and emerald green sweater he’d chosen weren’t particularly flattering in his opinion, but he remembered a time that his mother had told him that green brought out his eyes. He’d never really had to think about this sort of thing, looking nice for someone else. Why was he putting so much thought into it this time? This was only an obligation, of course. Necessity. Retribution.

A soft knock came from the open doorway, and Rimmer spun, startled, to see who it was. The perfect curl fell out of place. It was Lister, standing there in...was...was that a clean shirt? Actually clean, and not just his usual standard of it. It was white and blue, and with a strange pattern of palm trees printed on. His hair was washed, thoroughly washed, but still in dreads as he liked it, and his face looked smooth and freshly shaven. Rimmer felt cheated thinking that Lister knew how to have good hygiene the entire time they’d roomed together, but he couldn’t bring himself to say something mean now. They stood staring at each other for a long moment, each new to seeing the other dressed up.

“Hey, Arn,” Lister offered with a little toothy smile.

“Ah, hi…” Rimmer instinctively replied, straightening up, “Are you ready to go?”

Lister nodded, looking more excited than nervous. That only made Rimmer’s own nerves increase. Was Lister taking this as a casual meeting? Rimmer couldn’t stop thinking about where it was going to end up.

As they walked together to the elevator, Rimmer wondered how he was going to go about the whole dancing thing. He’d never even tried, really, and he hadn’t been particularly well-coordinated even when he was alive. Holograms didn’t have the best balance either, what with the general weightlessness, so he figured it was too late to learn anyway. He hoped that Lister would tire quickly and he could get away with some basic toe-tapping and two-stepping without much more. But, he figured that with his luck, Lister would want to...god forbid, _teach_ him how to dance. That would just not do.

The lift down was quiet for the most part, and Lister wondered if _he_ looked good enough. Sure, he thought, he was more made up than Rimmer had probably ever seen him before, but he wasn’t so sure that he was _enough_ at all, really _._ Even though this was out of necessity, and they were only doing this to make the foreign ship leave so that they could restore the main power supply, it still felt like a date, and he knew where it was going to go, so obviously he wanted to be...you know, appealing. 

He’d never thought so hard about whether or not he was attractive. Most days, he just existed, and that was all that he could manage, but although that was enough for him, he knew all too well how Rimmer felt about it. Lazy, sloppy, unhygienic, those were all things he’d heard hundreds of thousands of times. He wondered how Rimmer managed to be so thoroughly messed up, yet still retain his ability to take care of himself. At least physically. It was obvious that his emotional issues had been, and continued to be, left unchecked for years.

Rimmer sniffed and adjusted his taut stance. He remembered H.E.R.P.E.S.’s captain and put on a posh expression. Lister watched him with amusement, but said nothing, instead widening his foot stance just a hair.

The disco was lit purple and blue, with red flares scattered about, and the freckles of the glittering white lights were mesmerizing as they danced over the walls and floor. It had been a while since Rimmer had been down here, as he had no real reason to be and it didn't necessarily appeal to him, but damned if it didn't look appealing now, glowing neon yet soft, and twinkling.

Lister grinned as he watched Rimmer's face, “Should we get drinks?”

Rimmer was startled out of his daydreaming, “Oh, er,” he nodded, smiling his odd little tight-lipped smile, “Yes, sure.”

As they wandered to the bar and sat beside each other on the too-small and generally uncomfortable stools, the music was soft and low. Lister thought how nice a conversation would be right about now.

“So…” he started, tapping his fingers against the rim of his glass, “Here we are.” He felt idiotic knowing that was the best he could come up with to break the ice.

“Indeed,” replied Rimmer, equally unsure as he sipped his gin and tonic. He hated alcohol on the best of days, thought it was bitter and pointless, but he stomached it to show how strong he could be. Despite himself, he made a face as he swallowed.

They sat avoiding each other's eyes for a few minutes before Lister spoke up again, swirling the drink in his glass, “We should dance,” he suggested, “Why don't you choose the music?”

Rimmer was about to argue when Lister downed his drink and gave him a parting pat on the shoulder. He watched as his roommate made his way to the dance floor. Oh, boy.

The music clicked on once Rimmer had made his selection and a monotonous tapping began, then was quickly and violently drowned out by the most powerful bagpipes Lister had ever heard.

He covered his ears, “What the smeg is this crap?! This is not dancing music!”

Rimmer stood unreadably still and straight as he closed his eyes and enjoyed his choice. Lister ran to change it.

A few boring pop choices later and they were on their way to what one might call dancing. Lister was giving a boogie like no tomorrow and Rimmer was, of course, toe-tapping. Trying to engage with him was like trying to rouse a lazing cat from its perch. All attempts were met with indifference, or annoyance. Lister was growing impatient.

“Why won't you dance?”

“I don't dance.”

“Come on, let the music move you.”

“I really…”

“Set your body free.”

Rimmer held his breath out of frustration before sighing it out again, “I don't dance.”

Lister had heard enough. He grabbed Rimmer by the hand as the song picked up energy, urging him into a simple dance that was easy to get the hang of. Despite Rimmer's initial protest, he did begin to follow, only stumbling and losing the beat a handful of times. He would never admit it aloud, but he was actually beginning to enjoy himself. 

He thought that maybe this was what having genuine fun was like. Not the kind of fun he was used to having, that consisted only of the lonely, twisted pleasure of throwing cheap insults at the only people who had even the slightest chance of calling him a friend. No, this kind felt warm and comfortable, soft to touch but electrifying. At first he figured it was from the alcohol, and perhaps it had helped, but he could feel the rousing glow of what he thought could be...love, tugging at his insides. As the thought crossed his mind, he made a strange face, still smiling, but horrified beneath. Lister didn't seem to notice.

“You're not half bad for someone who doesn't dance.”

Rimmer puffed, ego stroked, “Of course,” he stuck his nose up with a hoity-toity smile, “Do you expect me to be terrible at everything I do? I've got news for you,” a small sway of his head, “I'm actually a highly skilled individual.”

Lister laughed, and despite the fact that it should have been insulting, Rimmer laughed too.

They continued dancing for what felt like three whole nights, and the both of them were becoming tired. It was nearing eleven o’clock, so they decided wordlessly to start slowing down for the night. The room smelled of sweat and of fun, and the lights had shifted at some point from blues and purples to greens and yellows. The glittering flecks moved in waves across their faces, shimmering softly. Lister wanted to tell Rimmer how beautiful he looked, smiling and alight. He held his tongue.

Once they had settled from their escapade, they made their way back to the bar. Lister wanted another drink before they left, and Rimmer decided he did too. Of course, it didn't _really_ do anything to him, being a hologram, but the placebo was enough for him to believe it would, and already had. They made eye contact over their glasses and laughed. 

“This has been really fun so far,” Rimmer started, quickly covering his mouth with his glass to take a drink. He had more to say, but he’d startled himself with only the first half of his comment too much to continue.

Lister smiled warmly and playfully shoved Rimmer’s shoulder, “The night’s still young.”

And as quickly as he could have said ‘hey-ho, pip ‘n dandy,’ Rimmer shut off, bringing his arms down to rest on the counter and create a barrier between himself and his roommate. He frowned, face creasing in ugly places and eyes cold. He forced himself to speak, “I suppose.”

Lister watched it all happen and had already realized how nervous Rimmer must be. He hadn't quite thought about the implications, the permanent ones, of acting this out. He wasn't even sure if Rimmer was into men. This could be entirely against the poor man's sexuality. As he thought longer about it and the silence between them grew, the lights shifted back into their previous indigos, and grew dimmer. Lister looked up at the ceiling, “Must be trying to close down for the night,” he observed.

Rimmer was stuck, however, on the memories he had been so carelessly reminded of. It had hurt. That was his main concern. Then, of course, that it had been shameful and mortifying. Lister was never going to drop this for the rest of their miserable lives. Rimmer would forever be known among the remaining crew of Red Dwarf as the one who took a fat cock and probably loved the hell out of it, the sick bastard. He was certain that this ‘date’ was nothing but grooming to make Rimmer feel safe and comfortable enough to ruin his reputation forever. How could he have been so blind? God, Lister must have thought he was an idiot.

“Rimmer?”

His attention focused back into the moment.

“I asked if you wanted to go back to…” as his thought trailed off, he realized it probably wouldn't be the best idea to try to do their duty on one of their tiny bunks. Now where on Red Dwarf could they find a big...bed… And then it hit him: the captain's quarters, “To the upper floors,” he wiped at his nose nonchalantly, “I was thinking we could go to the captain's room.”

Rimmer was oddly silent for a long moment before responding, “So that you can make me do awful things and humiliate me for the rest of your meager little life?”

Lister was taken aback, “What?”

“Oh yes, just let me sprawl myself out for you, completely naked and at your whim,” he was practically snarling by the end of his sentence, “See if I care at all when you try to convince me your intentions aren't cruel.”

“Arn…”

Rimmer's eyes pricked with hot little tears, threatening to turn his anger useless. Lister watched as his roommate's face contorted into shameful sadness and turned away to hide. He couldn't believe what he just heard. I mean, sure, he conceded, Rimmer often got the wrong idea in his head and couldn't be swayed, but with this? He wasn't going to be easy, that much was for sure.

“Rimmer, as much as I'm doin’ this for that ship,” he rested one of his hands on the counter near Rimmer's, an invitation to take it, “I've had the time of my life tonight.”

Rimmer only listened.

“I've never had so much fun with anyone else,” his voice was soft and sincere as he laughed a little at himself, “not even Lise,” his hand crept closer, “I wouldn't dream of hurting you.”

“You’ve hurt me plenty of times before, what’s so different now?” was all the response Rimmer had, voice wavering but head still held high in defiance.

Lister frowned. Every time he’d insulted or wronged Rimmer in the past _was_ genuine, but he hadn’t exactly thought about the long-term consequences of his actions. His hand met Rimmer’s, finally, and he brought it to his lips to kiss it. 

Rimmer’s frustrating stubbornness was gone just like that, and though he tried to reestablish it quickly and pick up the pieces of the wall that just crumbled, his eyes betrayed him, “You,” he swallowed, throat dry and crackling, “You think you can just…” He couldn’t even finish. It was useless to pretend it didn’t feel incredibly, unbelievably nice to be flattered in such a physical way. He slowly pulled his hand back and made a fuss of wiping it on his shirt, “Anyway,” he tutted, “You said yourself that the night is…still young.”

Lister smiled, something devious in his eyes, and motioned for Rimmer to follow him.

~

“Won’t this trip some sort of alarm system?” Rimmer inquired, peering over Lister’s shoulder to watch him try several codes in the keypad.

“With what power?” He scoffed, sweating under the pressure of Rimmer’s watch, “The captain’s long dead anyway, I doubt Holly would care.”

Rimmer backed off, crossing his arms, before hearing a gentle ‘blip-blip’ signifying that the door was unlocked, “How did you do that?”

Lister smiled and winked, but said nothing as he opened the door. The two of them tried to take in the whole room at once as they walked in one after the other. It was massive to the point of being absurd, complete with an en-suite bathroom, attached kitchen, and a plush, king-sized, actual bed. Rimmer stared at it with animalistic intent. He approached briskly and ran his fingers over the comforter. It was the softest thing he could swear he’d ever felt. He smoothed the blanket down and sat on the edge of the mattress tentatively. His backside was loving that decision. Lister watched him, but decided to keep a fair distance at first; he didn’t want to startle Rimmer into thinking he was coming at him. He picked at his fingernails and wished he’d worn something long-sleeved to fidget with. Oh well, he thought, not like he’d be wearing it for much longer if things went well now anyway.

Rimmer cleared his throat and tried to look absent-minded and idle. Lister tilted his head and slowly tried coming closer. Rimmer shifted, crossing his legs. Lister paused. So this was turning into a game. Alright, then. If Rimmer wanted a game, then a game he would get.

“You know, we don’t have to do it.” Lister tried, already knowing that wasn’t the issue.

“And let the H.E.R.P.E.S. cling to us forever?”

“We could learn to live with it.” With every word, he drew closer to the bed.

“I couldn’t, not when my life is so different.”

“That’s just you, though, I’ve barely lied about anything.” His eyes glinted as Rimmer’s legs crossed the other way.

“We have a responsibility.”

“Does the idea of us making love really appeal to you that much?” He sat down carefully next to Rimmer, face unreadable but somehow looking amused.

Rimmer turned to look at him, but kept his legs and now his arms crossed. He had no answer that wouldn’t completely decimate his composure. He stayed silent, eyeing Lister curiously, but stubborn still.

Lister’s hand edged its way to Rimmer’s knee, almost like he was asking for permission to initiate something more physical. Rimmer didn’t move away. And so, slowly and deliberately, the hand on his knee slid further up along his leg, cresting his inner thigh. He turned away, eyes closed and ashamed. The hand slowed to a nearly aggravating pace, just centimetres away from touching Rimmer’s most sensitive area. His breath caught in his throat as he anticipated the contact. Then, frustratingly, the hand moved away, instead coming around to touch his waist. But as he was about to complain, he was gripped firmly, but carefully, and another hand touched his shoulder to turn him. Before he could form a reaction, he felt pressure against his lips. His eyes flew open, feeling the warmth of skin against his face.

Lister wasn’t sure if he was a great kisser, but he tried his best. Firm, but not stiff; loose, but not slobbery. He would never admit it to a soul in his life, no matter how trustworthy, but he _did_ occasionally practice on his pillow. Despite his efforts, though, he always thought that it wasn’t helpful because a soft, squishy pillow didn’t feel realistic. But often he was wrong. And Rimmer was so soft. Even through the faint tingle of the hard light, he could feel how cared for the skin was. For a long moment, he was completely and comfortably lost.

Rimmer was the first to pull away, caution and fear shaded behind half-lidded eyes. They said nothing aloud, panting. Then, like magnets, desperately and vigorously, their mouths reconnected. Too long they’d been waiting for this; too long they’d been pent-up and pushing each other aside. The heat of the kiss was suffocating. Lister’s hands explored over anywhere they could reach, and Rimmer was quickly coming undone at their touch. Even since becoming hard-light, he had still had little human contact. That is what tends to happen when you forbid yourself from even acting vaguely friendly with the roommate you have a big, ugly crush on, or the aloof Cat, or the neurotic android, or anyone you meet along the way.

As their tongues became acquainted, Rimmer found himself being guided down onto his back. The lingering fear began bubbling to the surface. He felt the same warm touch from before, the hand upon his legs, and this time, it was moving fast. A shiver ran up his spine as he was touched between his legs, disconnecting from the kiss and trying to sit up in a panic. Lister backed up to give him room.

“Sorry,” Lister breathed, unable to make eye contact, “Too fast?”

Rimmer’s legs trembled, adrenaline-filled and sensitive, as he swallowed to wet his throat, “No, I,” he swallowed again to give himself time to think, “You can’t just do it without warning,” he insisted, eyes wide.

Lister made a face, “You want me to narrate?”

After a while of grumbling and more waist-squeezing, Rimmer was finally most of the way ready to be touched more intimately. Lister ran his hand along Rimmer’s crotch, feeling his half-hard erection through his pants and feeling his heartbeat begin to race. This was oddly exciting to him. Well, he supposed that sex _should_ be exciting, but he hadn’t supposed that sex with _Rimmer_ should be exciting. Ugly, smelly old Rimsy. The same Rimmer that he despised being around the majority of the time. The same Rimmer that constantly insulted and belittled him. The Rimmer that he was now groping quite roughly out of frustration. And the one that was actually loving it.

He was squirming into Lister’s hand, biting his own that he’d curled into a fist. He wasn’t making eye contact, god forbid he show weakness like that, but he could feel Lister’s gaze locked on his face like a predator. Knowing he was being watched so intently and being touched and wanted for, it was all so sexy. He could feel himself heating up, in his face and elsewhere, and his un-bitten hand started wandering to return Lister’s favour. He felt the connection make Lister twitch, and his breathing grew quickly heavier. And there they stayed for some time, both too nervous to escalate the situation.

After a while, though, Lister cleared his throat and spoke quietly, “Should we…” he began, eyes flicking down from Rimmer's, then back again, nerves threatening to close his throat, “Could we…”

Rimmer watched Lister’s expression squeeze and his eyes dart and slowed his movements, “Could we what?”

Lister swallowed, “You know.”

“I don’t,” his eyes fell half-lidded again, “You’ll have to ask me clearly.”

He knew what he was doing, Lister cursed, teasing him like that. Taunting him. What an asshole, even in a situation like this.

“If you’re ready, I think that,” he swallowed again, forcing his voice to come, “I think we could get naked.”

Rimmer’s expression went from the slight shock of hearing his long-time roommate say that out loud right to his face, to then an extreme need to do so, feeling hot and suffocated in the sweater he picked out, and restricted in the fitted slacks that hugged his skin. He decided to splay himself out, acting aloof and unconcerned, and certainly not moving to undress himself. He waited briefly for Lister to get the hint.

As surprising as it was initially, Lister didn't find it at all hard to believe that Rimmer was going to be like this. Demanding, expectant, and difficult to please. He was trying his best to cater to Rimmer's whims, giving him space when he seemed to need it, slowing down when he felt he was going too fast, but somehow he still felt the frustrating heat of impatience from the hologrammatic bellyacher beneath him. The two of them locked eyes and Lister tried to wordlessly ask if Rimmer was certain of what he was asking for. Rimmer blinked a few times, acting unbothered. Lister shook his head with exasperation and slowly unbuttoned Rimmer’s pants.

“You sure you want me to…”

Rimmer groaned with irritation and grabbed suddenly at Lister’s crotch to show he meant business, “You’d better hurry up before I get fed up and leave.”

This sprung Lister into action, practically ripping Rimmer’s slacks off of him and tossing them aside. His emerald sweater soon followed, leaving him in just his white underwear. Without thought, his arms flew to cover himself, skin tingling pink in expanses over his chest. Lister recoiled a bit. He’d seen Rimmer change clothes once or twice before, but somehow, seeing him so bare like this was different. His body language was fearful and defensive, and his eyes were harsh. Lister ran his hand along Rimmer’s cheek.

“Why are you hiding?”

“I’m not.”

“Right, what’s all this then?”

“I’m…” he began, lips quickly pursing in anger, “Why do you have to stare at me?”

Lister actually laughed. Rimmer looked angrier. 

“Because you’re nearly naked in front of me and you’re making me hard?”

Anger turned to denial.

“Your hardon is only because you want sex.”

“With you, right now, yeah.”

Rimmer shot him a look that was intended to be a glare, but turned into more of a questioning and hopeful but stubborn gaze. He wasn't refusing, but Lister didn't want to push him past what he'd agreed to yet. He decided to take the time to undress himself as well, stripping down to his underwear and resting onto his hands on either side of Rimmer's head. Lister had seen the way he'd reacted when he had stared, and the way he shrunk under Lister's imposing figure above him. Rimmer's eyes trailed over him, scanning him and evaluating. Lister looked on expectantly for the result.

“You should bathe more often.”

Lister took it as a compliment, despite its backhandedness, seeing as it meant he was approved of. He grinned, “So you think I look good?”

Rimmer scoffed and crossed his arms, “Of course you look good,” he stuck his nose up, “You washed yourself for once.”

Lister's smile glowed as he worked his way between Rimmer's legs, having only gotten halfway there in their change of position before. It was a tight fit, Rimmer squeezing his thighs together like a steel trap on instinct. Lister couldn't really complain, though, since he liked the feeling of being gripped by his roommate’s thighs. Their still-clothed dicks brushed together as Lister shifted, and they both sucked in a breath at the feeling. The grip of Rimmer's thighs loosened slightly. Lister pushed closer. They pressed against each other, heat building in their groins, and began to grind through their underwear. Rimmer felt guilty. He felt ashamed and dirty and embarrassed. But he couldn't stop. No matter how much he was trying to convince himself that this was wrong, his body betrayed him, and he could feel his precum soaking a small patch of his undergarments.

Lister was unbelievably impatient. He was good at hiding it, but he sure was feeling it. He grinded down onto Rimmer, their hips interlocking like puzzle pieces, and lowered his head to focus. As he did, though, he noticed an opportunity, and seized it. As his lower half moved rhythmically, his mouth dipped to latch messily onto Rimmer's nipple, sucking at it with fervor and intent.

Rimmer's voice came as a yelp, sputtering, “Wa—wait! What are you doing?!” He struggled to push Lister away, squirming away from his hungry lips like it hurt, “Why are you...?”

Lister’s frown looked like a child who’d been caught stealing cookies, “Sorry,” he spoke lowly, “Girls usually like that, so I thought…”

“Well, first of all, you’ve only been with a handful of women in your entire life, so—”

"So, you didn't like it?"

Rimmer huffed as he caught his breath and couldn't meet Lister's eyes.

"So, you did like it. You're so naughty, Arn."

Rimmer huffed again, "I just…" he trailed off, suddenly looking quite upset.

Lister recoiled a bit, thinking he'd offended Rimmer somehow, "I really am sorry."

Somehow, after all this chaos, Rimmer still didn't want to give up the life he'd been given by the truth field. He could feel things like happiness and comfort and real pride. Now he had things to _be_ proud of. Now he could look back on his life so far and feel like he amounted to something. To anything. If they went through with this, then it would all be gone again. He would have nothing left to be proud of. He would have no worth. He'd be just as he was before: a sad, lonely man who had lived a sad, lonely life and died a sad, lonely death caused by his own stupidity. How could he even live with himself after he had seen what could have been but what he had been too inept to achieve?...

He cleared his throat, "I don't know if I can do this, Lister."

Unfortunately, as much as Lister prided himself on being intuitive and reading moods, he completely misinterpreted why Rimmer wasn't into it.

"If it's how we're set up here, we could…well, we could try some other way, and—"

"I'm sorry, but I just can't," Rimmer restated, trying to get out from underneath his roommate.

Lister backed off to let him sit up, "No, _I'm_ sorry, Rimmer," he scratched the back of his neck, "I were just kinda hoping you were gay, you know."

Rimmer rubbed his arm, then realized what Lister just said, "Wait, no, I…" he shook his head and swallowed, "No, that isn't the issue, I—" He raised an eyebrow, "Are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Well…"

"Oh, no, not really. I mean, I like chicks," he paused to think, "But, I am open, just never really tried."

Rimmer stared, then stopped as he remembered why he was upset in the first place, "In any case, that's not the issue."

Lister frowned, "Then what?"

"I don't…" he lowered his gaze in defeat, "I don't want to give up the life I remember now."

It was so quiet after that that you could have heard one of Kryten's micro-fasteners drop. Lister just studied the subtle movements of Rimmer's face, watching as his eyebrows raised and scrunched together, as his lips pressed tighter, and as his eyes grew wetter. 

He wanted to say something encouraging, but it didn't come out right, "You'll be causing the rest of us an inconvenience."

Rimmer choked back a sob and tried to hide it as he brought his hands to his mouth. His eyes were tightly shut now, cheeks growing redder.

Lister tried to backpedal, "Not as in you're inconvenient," he was beginning to sweat, and glad that he was still in his underwear, "Just that the rest of us don't… _want_ to have our new memories."

Rimmer took a long moment to speak, barely a whisper, "What do you want to forget?"

"Well, I," he thought hard about it, "I want to forget lying to Kochanski about my feelings for her, for one," he pondered more, "And I want to forget lying to my bandmates about having a real, proper family."

Rimmer watched Lister from behind his hands.

"That's what's been bugging me the most," he rubbed his hands down his thighs to self-soothe, "I don't like remembering what feeling love from your parents is like."

"I do."

Lister prickled, "Well, that's because you _had_ parents to want love from," he quieted a bit, "And I didn't."

Rimmer pressed his lips flat again, then spoke in a whisper, "I'm sorry."

"So if you won't do it, then…" he wiped at his eyes with frustration at himself, "Then I'm not gonna force you."

"No, I'm sorry for being insensitive."

To say that Lister was surprised to hear that would be an understatement. The old Rimmer would never even _think_ he was insensitive, let alone go as far as to apologize for it. He thought that maybe it was a shame that he couldn't keep the false memories. But that thought was cruel.

"I didn't even think about the way my own decision would affect you," he rubbed his arm again, "I don't want to cause you pain."

"But I don't want to cause you pain either."

Rimmer licked his dry lips, "I won't remember once it's all said and done," his shoulders relaxed slightly, "We should go through with it." His eyes wandered over the floor, "I mean, we already got this far."

Lister's cock was telling him yes, but the logical part of him still had doubts, "Are you sure?" He took Rimmer's hand, "We could always think of a different lie to do," he laughed, uncertain, "I'm sure Kryten has something."

But the look Rimmer had already taken on, eyes filled with hunger and desperation, hidden behind a difficult frown, was enough of an argument that Lister felt comfortable coming in closer for another kiss. As their lips met and melded, Rimmer's faint protests were quickly gone with the tide. He was sure, but the shame made it hard for him to admit it. The tenderness of this felt warm, and Rimmer suddenly felt a _strong_ urge washing over him. He wrapped his arms over Lister's shoulders and the kiss grew deeper. This attempt at what could only be called carnal knowledge, yes…this would be it. Were it to lead to more, neither knew, but somewhere deep in their minds, they guessed that they'd end up like this again, a primal connection, like magnets snapping to one another.

Soon, they had stripped of their undergarments in a flurry of ardor and were left panting, staring at each other and really coming to terms with what they were about to do. They were actually about to... Fornicate? Sleep together? No… They were about to _fuck._

Lister slathered his fingers in his own saliva and slowly pressed them against Rimmer's rump. He could feel Rimmer's muscles tense, and his back arch. He was bracing himself for pain, but Lister was determined to make this comfortable. At least, as comfortable as it could be, given the circumstances.

"Please, just hurry," Rimmer breathed, bringing a hand to hide his mouth after feeling the shame that giving his roommate such an indecent command brought him, "Please…"

Lister obeyed. If Rimmer wanted to boss him around, then this was the only situation in which he'd listen. And of course, he wasn't going to argue if it meant he'd get his dick wet just that little bit sooner. He pushed two fingers in right off the bat, which was probably a mistake, but even with the threat of Rimmer being in pain, Lister was fully aware that he couldn't actually get _hurt_ , so he figured it probably actually didn't matter that much. Which was probably a mistake. 

Rimmer hissed and squirmed, curling his fists into the sheets at his sides, "Damn it…"

Lister paused, fingers already two knuckles deep, and huffed with amusement, "You told me to hurry."

"Do we really need to do this?" Rimmer swallowed, throat crackling and dry, "Can't we just skip to…?"

"We could," Lister interrupted, "but wouldn't that hurt more?" Despite his concern, his mouth was grinning wide. Watching Rimmer reduce into such desperation was _really_ doing it for him. He shook his head, amused, "Anyway, I used to do this with girls, 'cause they like some stretching, if you know what I mean."

"Of course I know what you mean, you dimwit," Rimmer hissed, "In case you haven't _noticed_ , you've currently got half of your fingers _buried_ in my _behind_."

Lister couldn't resist laughing. He pushed his fingers as deep as they would go. Rimmer yelped like a pup, quickly locking eyes with Lister in a startled daze and gasping, mouth agape. Lister looked somewhere halfway between eager and worried, smoothing his tongue over his lips and holding eye contact. 

“What the hell?” Rimmer half-shouted, half-whined, “That hurt!”

“Sorry,” Lister shrugged, “Just needed to shut you up.” His fingers began moving, slowly, but surely, stretching and scissoring inside as he watched Rimmer’s expression change from anger, to denial, to concentration, to pleasure.

"Do you know…” Rimmer breathed, “…just what you’re doing…?”

“Of course I do,” Lister smiled, “I have a perfect lie to work from.”

"Then you’d better stick to it,” he spoke softly, eyes dark with want, “And keep your word."

~

If it weren't happening in the captain's quarters, Lister would have decorated. In his head, he liked to think of his first time with colourful beads and lights around the bed like a little haven atwinkle. Of course, this wasn't his first time, but what he had experienced as his first was unremarkable, and if he was honest, he didn't remember it well. He did remember a golf course and that her name was Miley or Morgan or something along those lines. In any case, it had been long enough since the last time he had gotten to enjoy another human being's embrace that it certainly _felt_ like his first time. And he did suppose that it was his first time with Rimmer, or with any man for that matter. He knew the theory. He had read things before their date. He didn't want to look _completely_ idiotic to his roommate. But still, in practice, it was all very new and overwhelming.

Rimmer had his arms around the back of Lister's neck, wrapped firmly to pull closer, breathing heavy and hot into his ear. One of Lister's hands slid down Rimmer's sides, down to his hip, and locked there, gripping tightly. The sounds that Rimmer was making could only be described as mewls; they were almost melodic, yet somewhat shrill, and his eyes were screwed shut in concentration. As Lister thrust into him, his mind and body were completely discordant. As much as he was being physically pleased and satisfied, thoughts of embarrassment and shame kept bubbling to the surface and causing him to recoil or to tense up. Lister seemed unbothered, or just hadn't noticed. Rimmer hadn't expected his second sexual experience to be _homo_ sexual, nor had he expected it to involve Lister in any way, shape, or form, but here they were, sweat mixing and stomachs igniting, hands all over each other like their lives depended on it. 

“Lister…” Rimmer huffed, unsure of why that even came out of him, “Oh, Lister…” He couldn’t stop now that he’d started, though.

“Call me by,” Lister paused, distracted, “By my first name.”

Rimmer briefly made eye contact, “D…” he swallowed, “David, oh, god…” 

Lister watched Rimmer's face as the stimulation grew more and more intense for him, and he knew that the end was not far off. He could feel his own rhythm losing itself, thrusting becoming more unpredictable and uneven. He tangled his fingers into Rimmer's soft, mouse-brown hair and leaned down to suck and kiss at his neck. His skin smelled so damned good that Lister was sure he must shower at least twice a day to keep it up. He buried his mouth into the thin, tender skin without care if he would leave a mark. Rimmer spoke his name again, and the sound of it said in such a way urged his climax closer and closer. The heat in his bones was getting stronger, and his joints began to stiffen as his body prepared for what was coming.

“Arn, I’m close,” he growled, almost out of breath, “I’m close…”

Rimmer didn’t verbally acknowledge him, though his nails wrought roughly down Lister's back, leaving reddened trails in their wakes as he was brought to his sudden completion with a soft weep. Lister hadn't even realized how close Rimmer had been, but now he was too caught up in his own impending orgasm to think, simply letting his body take over and lead itself there. Their bodies pressed together firmly, skin against tingling skin, and for a moment, they stayed still, holding each other as the pleasure washed through them until they could catch their breath. 

Lister panted, “Holy shit.”

Rimmer buried his face into Lister’s shoulder. He was too embarrassed to be seen, but too comfortable and satisfied to push him away. He stayed there, catching his breath for a while, before softly clearing his throat and quietly mumbling, “Did that just happen?” 

Lister blinked a few times, “Yeah, I think so.”

“Are we going to remember it?”

“...Probably not.”

And after some pulling out, wiping up, and readjusting, they both quickly fell asleep against each other, arms and legs entangled.

~

“I’m sure they will come back soon,” Kryten assured the Cat, “All of their belongings are here.”

“It doesn’t smell like they were here recently,” Cat stated matter-of-factly, “I’d say they been gone all night.”

Kryten felt his fan begin whirring faster with worry, and he wrung his hands to calm himself. He couldn’t let this disturb him; he was an android, after all, and he _should_ have control over these troubling thoughts. But, however robotic his mind made of circuitry, he couldn’t help but assume the worst. His mind gave him several theoretical conclusions, such as:

  1. They had decided they’d had enough of Red Dwarf and had moved to a different room to avoid the others.
  2. They had decided they’d had enough of Red Dwarf and had blasted themselves off in an escape pod.
  3. They had decided they’d had enough of Red Dwarf and had thoroughly incinerated themselves.



All of which he felt were reasonable, to some degree, especially when considering some of the stranger things that had tended to happen to them. But, just as his mind started developing the third theory some more, he could hear faint bickering coming down the hallway. He instantly perked up, clapping his hands together softly, and headed out to meet the two formerly-missing scallywags.

“Oh, hey Kryten,” Lister nodded a greeting, having interrupted Rimmer to do so. Rimmer looked away and crossed his arms, cheeks red with annoyance. “We were just heading back to our room, did you need something?”

Kryten looked pleased with himself and nodded, “We are going to present our retribution to the foreign ship,” he tapped his chest idly to hear the clinking of metal, “Would you like to come along?”

Rimmer and Lister both narrowed their eyes and exchanged glances.

“You know about…?” Rimmer started, but shook his head, “Alright, let’s just go.”

And off they went.

~

“Oh, good, you’re all back to see me again,” Julia chirped, “That must mean you’ve completed the task I gave you, or you’re here to complain about,” her voice became nasal like a child, “How hard it is, it’s not fair, wah.” She blinked expectantly.

Lister looked at the others as he processed how strange that all was before stepping forward to speak, “We’ve come to let you know that we’ve, er…” he laughed a little at himself, “Completed the retribution, like you asked.”

“Yes, I figured I would come clean and,” Kryten spoke up, interrupting uncharacteristically, "And tell the truth about something I did."

Rimmer stared at Kryten. What was he saying? It was him and Lister who had gone through all of the trouble of…

"Alright, then, speak." Julia commanded.

"Well, you see," Kryten stammered, "I'm sorry, this is all quite embarrassing, well…"

Lister looked to Rimmer with horror in his eyes. Had they really done all that they did for nothing?

"Your shame means that you know you've done wrong. It is healthy to feel shame about being dishonest. Just speak."

Kryten nodded politely, "Of course, well, see, I decided one day several months ago that I wanted a day off from working," he sputtered at the floor, eyes darting away from the others, "So I told everyone that I had already vacuumed the 104th floor the day prior."

"And what did you do to retribute?"

"I vacuumed the 104th floor thoroughly, as well as cleaned all surfaces, and deep-cleaned all of the beds and sheets."

Rimmer was just as horrified as his partner, standing wide-eyed and mouth agape. He wanted to say something about what he and Lister had done, but really, _did_ he want to? After all, the shame that would bring, now knowing that they hadn't needed to do it, would be enough to make Rimmer break down then and there. Lister had his fist in his mouth, staring at the ground.

"Very good. That is more than enough to please my honesty recognition system," Julia chimed, "Now, hold still for a moment while your punitive false memories are removed."

And before they could process, the three liars were sent into stinging pain, memories of falsehoods slowing slipping away in fractal spirals. They felt lighter and lighter with every moment, but the pain was unbelievable. It was worse than any fire they could imagine, stronger than any punch that could be delivered, and most of all, more suffocating than any tie could be tightened. But, slowly, the thoughts disappeared, and the room felt brighter. Rimmer and Lister stared at each other. They still remembered the… 

"There, all done," Julia smiled, "You should be all back to normal now."

"Er, I…" Rimmer began, but was quickly interrupted by a swift cough from Lister.

"Thank you, Julia, all's well now, yeah," he shouted enthusiastically.

~

Rimmer lay reclining on his bunk, sporting his white nightshirt and briefs, staring up at the bottom of Lister's bed. He wondered what it had been like to feel like he had experienced every lie he told. Now that the memories were gone, he had no point of reference for why he had been so distraught, but he could still feel the residual pain and upset. Most poignant of all, though, was the memory he had kept. The one that had been acted out.

Lister was on the bunk above him, resting on his side in silence, occasionally sipping from his soda can (he didn't feel like getting drunk today). His jimmies were rustled, so to speak, since he'd been thinking about the same thing Rimmer was, but he didn't know whether Rimmer was asleep or not, and he wasn’t about to risk being heard tuggin’ it, so he just sat stirring silently. Just as he was about to throw caution to the wind, Rimmer piped up from below him.

“So, I suppose we,” he swallowed, “I suppose we’re going to remember what happened, then.”

“Yeah,” Lister nodded though Rimmer couldn’t see him, “Suppose so.”

Rimmer’s voice dropped to a whisper, “Were all of the words and feelings then,” he paused, tone gentle, yet eager, “Real?”

A long silence floated between them before Lister laughed, “Yeah,” he settled his head down and closed his eyes, “Suppose so.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo that was that! Hope you like it and I hope the little inconsistencies with the canon plot were forgivable lol.


End file.
